Hesitation
by TapesAndRecords
Summary: "You... you didn't get hit." She doesn't know if it's a question or a statement.


**note: **I wrote this in the car last week, and I have absolutely no idea why. I wanted to post a tag to 10x10 but nothing's working right now, and though I'm trying to finish a Christmas themed piece, I haven't got that done yet, either. So you get this, yay. I… don't know whether I like it or not.

**disclaimer: **You know you're obsessed with NCIS when you fall asleep listening to the commentary for Recoil.

**listening to: **Actually, currently I'm not listening to anything. Heh.

* * *

She stands, limbs aching slightly and her side feeling bruised from her sudden, hard, fall. Shots and a shout echo in her ears and she winces at the dull pain seeping through her.  
Blood spreads slowly from the body not two feet from where she is, and she takes a step back before the pool creeps to her toes. Their perp is riddled with holes, and yet somehow she feels like it's not enough. An easy way out.

"Ziva!"

She looks up to see Tony walking through what used to be the door. He slows down and eyes the walls- also decorated with holes and bullets- before letting his gaze drift over her.

"You... you didn't get hit."  
It should be a statement, she thinks, but the very slight inflection as he finished his words grabs her attention.

"No." she murmurs, shaking her head.

"Oh, thank God."

He walks toward her and wraps his arms round her shoulders, gun still held in his hand. More hushed words fly from his mouth, but she cannot decipher them amongst his ragged breathing right in her ear.  
He presses his face into her neck, and she thinks his lips brush her skin as he pulls back, arms still cradling her.

"David!" Gibbs says in her ear, before Tony has the opportunity to say anything further, and she steps away from her partner to answer her boss' near-panicked address.

**000000**

"Laying on the floor, so that's how you did it." Tony says from somewhere behind her, and she blinks, bringing up another window on her screen before he reads any more of her report.

"Yes, it is. I didn't notice you there."

He clears his throat, then steps round from his previous position to stand in front of his desk, proceeding to lean on it almost casually. When he speaks he ignores her attempt at changing the subject.  
"How d'you know?"

She considers asking _know what?_, but she thinks she can gather he's referring to her actions. She swallows.  
"I didn't. I... assumed that if he were to move like he did, that Gibbs would not hesitate to act. So I just... I do not know, I did not really think."

"It was a reflex."

It is a clear statement this time, not like earlier, and she knows he's chosen his words, identical to those she said a lifetime ago, very deliberately.

"Yes."

They sit in silence for a while, but just as she's brought her report up again, he speaks.

"It wasn't Gibbs. You probably didn't hear any of it, but... it wasn't Gibbs."

She frowns.  
"I don't understand."

"It wasn't Gibbs who didn't _hesitate to act_. It was me."  
His voice is quiet and his eyes are trained on the floor, but the words cut through her nonetheless.

"Tony-"

"It was pretty insane in there. I could hear him getting more and more crazy, and I was getting more and more anxious," he chuckles mirthlessly. "I could imagine what he was doing, and then I heard him about to shoot. And... I shot first. Everyone else kinda followed my lead. Gibbs kept yelling at me the whole time, too."

She stands and moves part-way through his monologue; by the time he's finished he's brought his eyes up to hers.  
He sends her a tired smile, about to speak again, but she lays her hand on his cheek before he can deflect to inevitable humor.

"Don't."  
It's all she needs to say.

She's not quite expecting his fingers to grasp her other hand, but they do, and the action, whilst almost being brand new and raw to both of them, is comforting. Closing her eyes, she brings him closer to her and rests her forehead on his for a second or two, then takes a deep breath and steps back, breaking every connection between them.

"Goodnight, Tony."

He nods, looking not disappointed necessarily, rather knowing, and almost regarding her with a promise. He keeps looking at her for a second more, then gathers his things and heads to the elevator.  
She returns to her desk and hears the familiar _ding_of the elevator as she continues her report.

"Night, Ziva." he says unexpectedly in her ear. Then, he brushes his lips over her cheek and leaves for the night, apparently as silent as he had been moments previously.

With a smile, she ignores the now-returning throbbing at her hip and types another word.

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